


Favour

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 09:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20672984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ignis did laundry.





	Favour

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s a rare Sunday morning where Noctis doesn’t _have_ to be anywhere—Gladiolus had to reschedule their training session and there are no charity or press events on schedule. So, for once, Ignis allows Noctis to sleep in. It is, after all, his final year of high school, and he should enjoy what tiny shreds of freedom he has while he can. The second that he graduates, Ignis will have to get him into the top university, set him up at the Citadel, and find him a suitable job that will look good in the papers. There won’t be any sleeping in on weekends then.

By extension, Ignis gives Prompto the same courtesy. Wrapped up on the couch in a number of spare blankets, Prompto’s quietly sleeping. The remnants of last night are still strewn about the living room—Ignis hasn’t yet gotten around to tidying up the scattered game cases and wrappers from half eaten food. If Prompto hadn’t stayed the night, Ignis would probably wait and make Noctis do it. But he’s not going to insists on that while Prompto’s in earshot, because he knows that will just have Prompto guiltily scrambling to clean up while Noctis yawns and sits back, letting his best friend do all the work. 

Besides, unlike Noctis, Prompto deserves to have someone picking up after him once in a while. He isn’t spoiled like Noctis is—he has to do everything himself, and from what Ignis has seen, his own house is spotless solely because of him. His parents are almost never in town. It saddens Ignis every time he thinks about it, because Prompto is as sweet as they come, and he shouldn’t be as independent as he is at his young age. 

At least Ignis can offer the occasional hand when Prompto’s spending time with Noctis. He’s currently making them all breakfast, carefully pouring batter into a pan over the stove. He’s pleased that at least Gladiolus didn’t come over too, because then he’d have to make twice as many pancakes. 

He’s only finished the first two when he hears Prompto stirring. A bit of rustling, and he looks over the kitchenette’s island to see Prompto sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His blond hair’s a mess, his shirt supremely rumpled. Ignis calls a simple, “Good morning.”

Prompto starts, then answers, “’Morning!” And then he spots the stack of folded clothes sitting on the coffee table. He blinks dazedly at them while Ignis turns back to his cooking. 

He scoops another pancake onto the ‘ready’ plate. He’ll need at least a dozen before he puts them out—Prompto eats more reservedly, but Noctis wolfs things down like he’s Gladiolus’ size. 

Behind him, Prompto quietly asks, “Are these mine?”

“I believe so,” Ignis answers without looking. He’s familiar with all of Noctis’ clothes, so it’s easy to tell which things are Prompto’s, even though they’re a similar size. 

Prompto mumbles, “You didn’t have to do that...”

“Well, I was doing the washing anyway, and I was hardly about to ignore certain clothes on the floor simply because they weren’t royal.”

“Shit, I’m sorry; I shouldn’t leave stuff around like that...”

“It can hardly be helped with how much you visit.” And truth be told, Noctis is probably a bad influence on him, but Ignis doesn’t say that part. 

He hears the telltale padding footsteps of someone shuffling in socks. Prompto appears in his peripherals, hovering at the other end of the kitchenette. Prompto mutters nervously, “Sorry about that too.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Prompto doesn’t say anything else, so Ignis glances over. Prompto’s cheeks are faintly pink, and he’s picking at his sleeve, gaze on the floor. Given how uppity and energetic Prompto is the majority of the time, it’s always odd to see his vulnerable side, even though Ignis knows it’s there. He knows Prompto has massive insecurities, and a part of him feels honoured to see them—to see a very real part of Prompto that the public never gets to. 

Lurching forward, Prompto comes and latches onto Ignis. He hugs Ignis tight around the middle, and after the initial startle, Ignis reaches his free hand around Prompto’s back and gently rubs it. He tells Prompto sincerely, “You’re welcome here any time.”

With a small nod, Prompto pulls back. He gives Ignis a big, grateful grin. A door creaks open from around the corner—likely the one to Noctis’ room.

Noctis yawns loudly and wanders in. Prompto chirps, “Morning, buddy!” And just like that, he’s back to the happy teen he should be.


End file.
